Day 177- 188, January 30, 2017 @5:10 pm
I have really let time slipped away on me. I am still purposeful and mindful of making changes. What is most important to me is being flexible and not having a rigid mindset, unable to see another’s point of view. I thought doing something different every day would be a good way to go. I have fallen behind somewhat and slipped back into my comfort zone of not doing. It is not a bad thing. That’s a human thing – to slip. The thing is to come back and resume.
I have been struggling to stay on track in January. It hasn’t gotten the best of me but I have been tested. I’m struggling now, wanting to retire to my recliner with my tea and close my eyes. But I can be pesky. I continue to tap and tap. I hope the rhythm can give me the push I need to go the distance to the finish line.
I’m struggling but I’m not slouching. I get up, dress up. I haven’t shown up here for awhile but I’m still stepping, lifting, tabataing, swimming – doing the aerobics for my heart. For my soul, I’m doing the online class Paint Your Heart and Soul 2017 and an art history class on the university campus. Life is a little busy. I’m a little tire. I need to get use to doing a little more, complaining a little less. But the beat goes on. I want to sing a better tune tomorrow.
Day 176, January 18, 2017 @5:21 pm
January is moving slowly for me. It’s been a harsh month of fluctuating temperatures. Can you believe that it was -45 degrees C with the windchill just a week or two ago. Today, the high is 7 degrees C. Right now it is still a balmy 6 degrees. It is melting. No point in complaining because someone is sure to tell me that nothing makes me happy.
They would be right! This weather is draining my energy. My legs feel like giant heavy logs. My feet like I’m wearing weighty steel-toed shoes as I drag through the slush with Sheba in toe. Every day in January it seems I’m moaning and groaning about something. I can’t talk, meditate or kick myself out of it. I bitch and complain but life still has to be lived. So I just do it. Sheba and I have to walk. We just do it.
We are back from our walk. I take the garbage bin to the front curb. It is garbage day tomorrow. The snow is melting. The backyard is a mess with Sheba’s poop littered here and there. I sigh a great big sigh. I feel exhausted, disgusted and not at all inclined to do it. BUT it does not pick itself. Sheba is not trained to pick up after herself. It’s NOT going away. I might as well JUST DO IT! Okay. It’s DONE – two bags of it! Ugh!
Day 175, January 17, 2017 @1:23 pm
My Tinker Bell and her fairy dust is still out. Now she is on her lunch break. I’m flying solo without a net. My only magic is my keyboard, a loyal and dependable friend. I might as well tap and breathe, tap and breathe while I wait for Tink to return. The going is slow but it’s better than at a standstill. My great, great ancestor did say that a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. I am stepping, finishing my White Snake/Tiger/Dragon maiden. She looks like she’s flying on a magic carpet. Maybe that is enough magic to keep me going.
I take comfort in making some progress with the beginnings of a little cherub. I can wait for elation to come later. Now the important thing is not to let feelings of inertia and despondency to weigh me down. Perhaps it is not good to dwell on this but it is necessary to know and acknowledge oneself. I am soothing and nurturing this part of me. I might as well use this energy for words and pictures. I like to paint my world with both these brushes – words and pictures.
Day 168 – 174, January 16, 2017 @4:59pm
A week have gone by since I’ve been here. I haven’t abandoned ship. I’m still with the program. January has been HARD. I’m lacking luster, inspiration and drive. My Tinker Bell with her magic wand and fairy dust has been taking a long coffee break. It’s about time she returns. I miss the flutter of her wings.
In the meantime, I have been working hard, putting one foot in front of the other. I am trying to do different, making new ruts instead of falling into the same old. My brain fights for the comfortable and familiar. I fight to keep it awake. I’m taking an online art class and trying stuff that I didn’t think I would care for – like doing a collage. In the process of doing, I find that it is pleasurable, almost exciting. I’m learning about new techniques, different paints, art supplies and tools.
I am also learning about story telling. This exercise is about using a power animal for healing. I chose the snake in a Chinese Legend of the White Snake. Thinking of all the positive attributes I want her to have, I wrote them on the page. I’m incorporating, breathing in these attributes as I paint a background for my snake maiden. Since it is my mother who told me the story, she is my White Snake Maiden. I did a sketch of her from a photo when she was a young woman.
I am discovering that I could enjoy new things – things that I thought I wouldn’t like. I am kicking my lazy brain in the butt. It is hard. I want to sleep. I want to snack. It is January, winter, the time for the hibernation instinct. I cut myself some slack. I have a snack.
My collage is not yet done. It’s taken a new story. The story will have to wait till next time.
Day 167, January 9, 2017 @6:57 pm
Here I am at the end of day 167 in a year of doing different. I am tired. I’ve worked hard today pushing my heart into the aerobic zone. It was good. My heart pumped and I sweated to the music. I felt this shift of more energy this morning and used it to fuel the day. Now I am spent and words are hard to come by.
I guess I can sit and mull things over for awhile. What is one to do? I’m still ticking off the days. I’m still with the program. That’s the thing. I’ve got the stick-to-it mentality now. Never give up. Till tomorrow.
Day 165-166, January 8, 2017 @2:15 pm
If I had my druthers, I would be napping right now instead of sitting here, painfully tapping out my words one by one. If I had my druthers, I wouldn’t have made another batch of yogurt, experimented with a tracing technique from my oneline art class. I wouldn’t have sorted my knitting baskets. They would still be overflowing with yarn tangled into each other, knitting needles, measuring tape and what have you. If I had my druthers, nothing would get done. Life would be a f***ing mess.
These difficult cold days of January, I’m trying to change my thinking towards the ‘hardness’ of life. I try not to think and just do it. Sometimes it takes an extra cup of tea/coffee, a glass of wine, extra time…whatever it takes. Today I’m employing mindfulness. I don’t try to understand the why of things. Some things/questions have no answers. Do you find it hard to bend over and pick up something dropped on the floor? I do. I drather walk around it even though it takes the same amount of time and energy? How ridiculous is that? I don’t try to figure it out. Instead I stand there, however long it takes to bend over, and pick it up. Now I have to go and get that extra cup of coffee. It’s what’s called a delaying tactic. It’s okay. I allow myself that.
I’m back with my coffee. On the way I saw a coil of dental floss on the floor. I bent down, picked it up and put it in the trash. It was not painful. Hallelujah!
It’s almost time to walk the dog. She’s been fussing for the last half hour. If I had my druthers, I would nap.
Day 162-164, January 6, 2017 @1:36 pm
I have forgotten how hard winter and January can be. I am glad that I am not one who makes New Year’s Resolutions. I would be setting myself up for failure. I have forgotten how hard life can be even though I experience it every day. Short term memory can be a wonderful thing. So forgive my short term grumblings. One needs to ventilate and not be afraid to clear out bad vibes and energies. I am cleaning my plate, palette/canvas for a new start.
Have I told you about my new hero? The other day I was experiencing all my ‘uglies’ whilst still in bed, in the dark of the morning. I recognized this is what I feel. This is my reality on some days. It would be better for me to accept and find ways to utilize these times for my benefit instead of moaning. It would be better than being worn down by them. What a moment of synchronicity to read an article on this very thing upon rising! The article is about B.J. Miller, a doctor and a triple amputee. He surely would know what hard is after losing 3 of his limbs as a young man. But he refused to feel sorry for himself.
Miller refused, for example, to let himself believe that his life was extra difficult now, only uniquely difficult, as all lives are. He resolved to think of his suffering as simply a “variation on a theme we all deal with — to be human is really hard,” he says.
I said WOW! This is magic. It was as if you were googling for some wanted thing. Before you know it, it would show up on the sidebar on your Facebook page. I have a feeling that the Universe is my page. It can read my wants and desire. It’s true that if you want something bad enough, you will find it.
This is not to say that life is not difficult anymore. I still have all my uglies. I see them in a slightly different light. Now I think of them as gifts pointing me in difference directions and helping me realizing different horizons. I believe that it is possible to fly to the moon and play among the stars.
Day 161, January 3, 2016 @7:11 pm
I have the grouchies with this cold weather. I wonder why my ancestors immigrated to this part of the country/world. Why not Australia or some other parts of the South Pacific? If it has to be America, why not San Francisco or Vancouver? No, there’s no point in wondering. We’re here in cold frigid Saskatchewan. Best to save my energy for coping. Would be easier if the weather was not so extreme – from melting to arctic temperatures overnight. But there’s nothing easy about this winter.
Okay, bitching over. I’m here on day 161 in my year of doing different. I’m inching forward each minute, each hour, each day. A drop in the bucket at a time will eventually fill it. Clearing one spot each day will create more space to do more. Changing one thing a day can create the domino effect.
I’m trying to be patient with my brush strokes. I gave my girl a different skintone – peaches and cream. Not liking it now but will let it sit. Not all changes are pleasing. Disappointment is not a bad thing. It leads to more changes. Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be a new day.
Day 160, January 2, 2016 @5:30 pm
I am finally reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic after buying it a year ago. I’m making progress reading just a few pages each day. The profound thing for me is her description of courage. Having courage does not mean you are fearless. Fearless people are sometimes rash and reckless. Courage is when you carry on despite the fear. I like the idea of not fighting it but to make space for it. Let it be a companion but not to let fear drive you. I feel its presence but it’s not running me.
I’m making slow magic, bit by bit, stroke by brush stroke each day. They build on each other. There’s a timidity in them but one day, my courage is going to be BIG and I will let my brushes have their way. They will whoosh across the canvas in brave broad strokes and in bold colours. It will happen. Meanwhile I’m learning my craft, experimenting with the magic, building my confidence, making peace with my fear.
My angels are around me on this 160th day in my year of doing different, on this 2nd day of 2017. I hear the whisper of their wings as they hover near. Peace be with everyone.
Day 159, January 1, 2017 @9:13 am
Here it is, the first day of a new year. The morning is still dark though there is a rosy glow in the eastern sky. I’m sitting here hoping to tap out something profound. I am stuck though, mistaken in my belief that today is special. It is just another day. It is us who gives it meaning. The day has no power. It cannot give me wings to fly. It is I who must grow and power those wings.
I shall sit and tap. Maybe magic will come to these fingers. They will fly over the keyboard, leaving words of wisdom and courage. My hands are feeling weak and limp. My head and heart faint. I cannot blame it on late night celebrations and fireworks. I can only say it is the way I am in this moment, wishing for magic with no wand. I have only my fingertips and the keyboard. I shall do the best tap dance I can. Maybe I need another cup of tea for fuel.
I’m back with my tea. I can tap a few more sentences. I’m weak and limp with the fear of change. I hang on to my paper clutter because they are bills and receipts. They are RECORDS in WRITING. How foolish – as if records can protect me from anything or anyone. There! I’ve said it outloud. I have gathered a small box of such faux protection last night. They will be shredded in a few minutes. Every day in January I will do a little bit. I know the power of every day small.